Honoring The Fallen
by emilynoel11
Summary: Aragorn watches over Legolas while he grieves.


Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Just a little something that popped into my head the other day while watching the Two Towers film. We never get to see how Legolas reacts to the death of Haldir and the other elves, so here it is. I'm not an expert on what elves believe or do when one of their own dies, so forgive me if there are some inaccuracies.

* * *

Aragorn finds him later, when the fighting is done but the pain is just beginning.

He does not approach, for while he spent his entire life surrounded by elves and understands their beliefs and customs well, he still feels it is not his place to encroach upon them, not now, not here, after the first taste of Sauron's power and the beginning of the end of all things.

So he does not approach, merely watches from the shadows as Legolas walks among the bodies of his fallen brethren. His skin is as pale as moonlight, his fair hair clumped with dirt and sweat and falling out of his usual braids, his clothing ripped and bloodied from the battle, but he refuses to rest before giving the proper respect to his comrades.

The rest of the surviving Lothlorien elves are there as well, paying their own respects to their allies, but they stand apart from Legolas. All recognize the Elven Prince and hold a mutual respect and kinship with him, but Aragorn understands their hesitation.

To them, the Woodland Prince is nearly a stranger and they share a common grief for their fallen brothers, a stronger, more personal grief that Legolas cannot share. They hold the memories of countless battles, training exercises, memories of love and laughter in their hearts, whereas to Legolas they are simply faces. All would accept him under normal circumstances, but at the moment, Aragorn knows it is simply instinct to band together with what you are already familiar with.

They do not know what Aragorn knows - that Legolas feels their loss almost as deeply as they do. While he did not know many of the fallen elves personally, he knows that the warrior has grown up in a world where he was responsible for other elves, and as such feels any loss of life as if it were a personal mistake. He knows his friend well, knows that he grieves for these elves as if they were Mirkwood's own.

That is not to say he doesn't feel their pain, too. He recognizes quite a few of the elves from the time he'd spent in Lothlorien, as well. He feels their loss just as he does any of his friends or fellow soldiers. Mere hours after the battle, all of Helm's Deep is sharing a common sorrow from the loss of so much life. Yet he can only imagine how Legolas and the other elves are feeling at the moment.

He knows from his years spent in Rivendell that things are very different for them. The fair folk do not suffer from any malady that plagues the nations of men, and neither do they die of old age. Men have scarcely 80 years on earth before death claims them, and while Aragorn is blessed with longer life than most, he knows it is still only a blink of an eye for the elves.

They hold new life in such high regard, and yet he imagines death is an uncommon occurrence for them. Only through intense injury or extreme grief do the elves succumb to death, and therefore they have thousands of years to build bonds and love and memories.

Yet he also knows that Legolas is no stranger to it. Mirkwood's dangers had only increased as of late, and he wonders how many comrades the elven Prince has had to bury. He can only imagine for how long Legolas has known these elves and what kind of memories they shared. He wonders if Legolas sees the Lothlorien uniform or the Mirkwood one, although he doubts it makes a difference to his friend.

So the golden Prince stands alone in the sea of bodies, licking his wounds and mourning his losses, as they all are after the battle of Helm's Deep. He walks slowly, his face empty, yet to Aragorn his eyes scream his despair. He also does not miss the way his stride pauses every so often, head bowing slightly in sorrow as he sees an elf he recognizes from the years he'd spent visiting the Golden Woods. It's impossible to hear from this distance, but he is certain those are prayers that are constantly upon his lips, eyes downcast.

His heart nearly breaks at the look on Legolas' face when he comes upon Haldir, even the stoic elf unable to contain the blatant grief on his face when he sees the fallen Captain. The golden-haired elf immediately falls to one knee, head bowed and lips already reciting the prayers, the wishes for his soul to make its way to Valinor safely.

Even when the prayers stop and the lips still and the living elves pass around him, Legolas does not break his vigil. Limbs that Aragorn knows must be bruised and battle-weary remained in their bowed position for a long time, eyes closed in silent grief, and he can only imagine how great that grief must be.

He remembers his own anguish and fury when the man had fallen and lay dying in his arms. He knew that the sight of the light fading from Haldir's eyes would haunt his dreams for years to come and he closes his eyes for a moment at the memory of it.

Aragorn knew the elf well from his travels to Lothlorien, and considered him a dear friend. They had shared missions together when their duties had demanded it, and although he was wary at first, slowly Haldir had become more comfortable around the man. Thus he had greeted him with a hug when he had appeared with his men the night before. There was a moment of hesitation and for a moment Aragorn had worried he'd overstepped his bounds, but eventually the man had accepted his embrace.

There had been no such hesitation when greeting Legolas. They had immediately clasped arms, a blatant display of friendship and mutual respect for each other. However, he held no jealousy in his heart. Aragorn had known they were dear friends, although they hadn't seen each other in many years. He had learned through stories that in Legolas' youth he had spent quite a bit of time in Lothlorien and had trained under Haldir for many years before returning to Mirkwood.

If Haldir's death was painful for him, then he knew it must simply be agony for Legolas.

Aragorn wished there was something he could do for his friend to bring him some measure of comfort, but he knew there was none. Legolas had always been the type to take care of his wounds in privacy and silence. He very rarely showed his grief and he had hardly ever seen the elf accept comfort, even from his closest friends.

As a Prince among his people, he knew that it probably had never been acceptable for him to do so. And as an aspiring king himself, Aragorn knew that one day he would be followed by the same scrutiny and always expected to be strong. Until now, he had had a reprieve to freely show his emotions and do what he willed, but he knew Legolas had not had the same luxury.

He wished it were not so, yet he would honor Legolas and allow him to grieve in private. To say something to him would only push the elf further away, which was why he remained in the shadows instead of joining him in the bloody light of day.

Besides, he wasn't sure he had any words of comfort to offer. The pain of their losses weighed heavily on his own chest, and he feared what would happen if he delved too deeply into it. For now, he could only push the grief aside and keep marching on.

After all, there was nothing anyone could do to bring back the dead.

All they could do now was honor their sacrifices and move forward.

Eventually, Legolas' eyes opened and he slowly rose. Haldir's body had been the last and therefore he could now slip away.

Aragorn caught him before he could go far, bandages in hand. "Come, _mellon-nin_, let me bandage your wounds. You should rest."

He knew the elf too well to leave him on his own at the moment. He knew Legolas would not talk to him of his grief, so caring for him in this way was the least he could do.

After a moment, Legolas' stony gaze cracked and softened. Saying nothing, but tilting his head in acquiescence, he led the way into the keep.


End file.
